Montana Cowboy. Jillian Hart

saw you and Jerrod. Coming in from the forest.” Olive Lambert drew herself up. “He ran off again, didn’t he? And you didn’t inform me.”

      “It was just for a few moments. He didn’t go far.”

      “How many times do I have to tell you? He’s fifteen. He’s old enough to learn the value of self-discipline. If he can’t do it for himself, then you will do it for him.” Concern softened harsh words, but not enough. Olive Lambert was a woman used to setting the standards and getting her own way.

      In the library, Jerrod’s head bowed lower. Honor couldn’t see his face, just the tense corner of his jaw. The poor kid. “He’s doing well over all. You know he is. He’s worked hard all week.”

      “When he wasn’t trying to sneak off to ride his bike,” Olive interrupted. “You need to keep a better eye on him. Let’s try a little harder, shall we?”

      A movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Jerrod’s head bobbed lower, his total misery palpable.

      It hadn’t been an easy time for the Lambert family, with their impending divorce. She’d watched the fallout when her parent’s marriage failed, so she understood. She wished she knew how to make it easier for her student.

      “Of course.” She watched Olive tap down the wide corridor, heel strikes knelling on imported marble.

      Well, that could have gone better.

      Inside the library came the thud of a book slamming shut in frustration. Jerrod stayed in his chair, firsts clenched, muscles bunched in his jaw, upset.

      Lord, please help me find a way to help him. He was a good kid.

      “I didn’t mean to get you into trouble,” he muttered, resigned. “I just wanted to get out of this house.”

      “I know. You’ve been studying so hard.”

      “I don’t want to fail it again. It’s embarrassing taking the makeup exam as it is.” With a frustrated sigh, he opened his book. “I’m tired of being stuck here. There’s hardly anything to do. I wish—”

      He didn’t finish that thought. Instead, he launched out of his chair with his book in hand. “I’m going outside.”

      “Okay, but—”

      “I really need to get this book read. I know, I know.” Jerrod rolled his eyes and shouldered open the door.

      Funny kid. When she glanced at her screen, a picture of a gorgeous wedding cake—three beautifully decorated tiers—stared at her, a picture embedded in Luke’s email.

      Chocolate, chocolate chip cake, he wrote. Cream cheese frosting. Lots of icing flowers, as you can see. Voted by all four of my sisters as the best-tasting cake in existence. Tempted?

      Very, she wrote, hesitating. Luke was nice. He was friendly and funny and kind-hearted in his comments on the website and in the messages they had been sending back and forth over the last few months. She’d had fun corresponding with him. Maybe it would be fun to meet him?

      Then again, maybe she’d regret it. Luke McKaslin could be too good to be true. She clicked her way to the Good Books site and his user profile. His picture was a casual shot of a muscular, lean man sitting on a front porch step with one arm slung around his black border collie.

      A Stetson shaded his strong, chiseled face. His bright violet-blue eyes radiated honesty and good humor. His high cheekbones, perfect sloping nose and square jaw could have been carved out of granite and were softened by the wide generous curve of his smile.

      A big-hearted smile, she decided. Wide, approachable, a totally-good-guy kind of smile.

      The fact that he was completely gorgeous didn’t enter into the equation. She wasn’t looking for gorgeous. She wasn’t looking at all. Period. She was taking a break from romance. Unequivocally.

      But friendship? Yes, that was something she could definitely do. Luke McKaslin and his amiable, country-strong qualities made her want to drive two hours just to meet him.

      She stared at his info at the end of his message. A video chat? Sure, why not.

      “Honor?” Luke’s handsome face filled her screen—iron features, vivid, almost-purple eyes and yet it was his warmth that struck her most. “Hey, it’s good to actually talk at you instead of type.”

      “It’s weird, isn’t it?” He was a perfect stranger, and yet he wasn’t. She thought of all the notes they’d written back and forth about books and, lately, about life. She knew he lived on a ranch northeast of Bozeman. His dog’s name was Nell. His younger brother had died years ago fighting forest fires. He ran a dairy with his older brother. “I feel as if I should be typing something.”

      “Me, too. This is new, talking instead of typing, but it’s nice. You look different from your profile picture.”

      “I do?”

      “Blonder. More serious.”

      “It’s because of summer,” she explained, since the sun tended to lighten her hair. “And Montana.”

      “You’re still not liking Montana?” He nodded, scattering light brown hair with sun-made highlights. “It’s a beautiful place to visit, but it is different living here. I thought you might get used to it by now.”

      “I’m still counting the days until I leave. I miss home.”

      “Sure, I get that. It’s not just where you are, it’s who you’re with.”

      “So, you really are like all those emails you’ve written.”

      “Yep. Nell didn’t sneak onto the computer and do it for me. Right, girl?”

      A bark rose in the background, echoing in what appeared to be an eating area off the kitchen. She could just see the edge of kitchen cabinets. A dog’s nails tapped on linoleum. “Nell wants to know if you’re

      really coming. Brooke’s wedding should be a lot of fun.”

      “Most weddings are a happy event, but a lot of fun? Not so much.” She thought of her sister’s recent wedding, with all the stress, the preparations and pressure.

      “That’s because you haven’t been to a McKaslin family wedding.” Twinkles sparkled in his eyes. Amiable, good-humored and decent, that’s how Luke came across to her. He raked one hand through his thick hair. “We know how to have a good time. You wouldn’t happen to be hiding any champion volleyball skills, would you?”

      “I play on my church team. Or I used to, before I moved here.”

      “Okay, now you have to come. Because Brooke is a whiz at volleyball and she thinks she has tomorrow’s game won hands down.”

      “Volleyball at a wedding reception?”

      “Now you think I’m hokey and you wouldn’t get near me with a ten-foot pole.” Dimples tucked into the corners of his generous smile.

      A perfect smile. Good thing she wasn’t interested or she might be a little dazzled. “I make no judgments,” she reassured him. “You’ve just talked me into it.”

      “Yeah? Good.” His smile broadened. His dimples dug a little deeper.

      Wow. The impact was enough to knock her off her chair. She glanced over the top of her computer screen, totally forgetting her charge. Jerrod sat seemingly engrossed in his book on the porch. The poor kid needed a change of scenery, too. “Is it okay if I bring a guest?”

      “Bring anyone you want. The more the merrier. I’m looking forward to meeting you in person, Honor.”

      “Me, too.” She tried to ignore the dazzle of his dimples one more time. “You’ll email me directions?”

      “Absolutely. Whoops. That’s my brother. It’s milking time. I’ve got to